


And Baby Makes Five

by Not_You



Series: Will Graham And The Accidental Harem [5]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Attempted Kidnapping, Childbirth, Cravings, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cunnilingus, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Horses, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Light Bondage, Multi, Nightmares, Past Abuse, Past Animal Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pregnancy, Vibrators, all will needs is a stream, birth plans, mason verger is a shit, they all have a hard time trusting doctors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-22 15:51:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8291560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: The downfall of Mason Verger, and then Margot's pregnancy and Morgan's first days.





	1. Chapter 1

The morning after what Beverly has already dubbed Experiment Zero is really weird in how weird it isn't. Will wakes up and feeds the dogs and starts coffee like it's any other day. The others are all still upstairs, a warm, cuddly pile. Usually Will would be walking the dogs by now, but with Mason Verger wanting them all dead, none of them are going anywhere alone if they can possibly help it. Brian and Jimmy have been picking Beverly up to take her to work, and everyone is keeping track of anyone they spot tailing her. There aren't many sightings, these are professionals, but there's a small cast of recurring characters.

When Will brings the disappointed dogs back in from a surgical strike to pee, they rush ahead of him to greet Margot, where she's standing at the base of the stairs, wearing Will's plaid bathrobe. She looks like she belongs here, and as she coos to the dogs and pets each one, Will is struck again by that bizarre lack of strangeness. He also feels a weird, stupid glow, because Margot is... well, not the mother of his child, the possible mother of the idea of his child. He has no idea how to express it or what to do, so he just stands there and watches her in a way that's probably creepy as the dogs grin up at her and wag their tails.

Margot looks over the heads of the pack to Will, and she smiles. "Morning."

"Morning." Will fidgets a little, feeling about twelve years old. "There's coffee."

"Might as well drink it while I still want it," she says, and heads into the kitchen to pour herself a cup. Will helps her with the cream and sugar, and starts working on a frittata for when the others join them. She sits at the kitchen table and watches him, looking more relaxed than he has ever seen her.

"I'm not really sure how this works," Will says at last, and Margot laughs.

"I don't think there are any rules," she says, and Will has to smile, still slicing vegetables. He manages to time the frittata just right. There are five minutes to go when Beverly and Alana come downstairs hand in hand. They're adorable together, and Will loves them so much he can hardly stand it.

Margot waits a week after Experiment Zero to take a pregnancy test, and it's sort of an occasion. The girls all go into the upstairs bathroom and lock Will out to sit and have a drink with the dogs. They all know that something is up, of course, but they just wag their tails supportively and lean into Will for ear-scratches, which he is glad to provide. He's not even sure how he wants the test to come out. He's terrified of success, but failure will leave Margot vulnerable to her brother. They would just have to try again, anyway, and Will feels like an asshole for how much he enjoyed Experiment Zero. He hears the bathroom door open, and looks up as Beverly comes up to him with a shyly delighted smile.

"Hey," she says. "It looks like we're having a baby."

Will feels his smile stretching his face before he fully registers that he's happy, and Beverly grins, settling into his lap sidesaddle, the way Margot does it. She wraps her arms around Will's neck and nuzzles into his hair. "You actually look happier than I expected."

"I feel happier than I expected," Will admits. "The idea of family has always seemed kind of strange to me, but I'm glad I'm part of this."

"Fifty percent of the test result," Beverly chirps, and Will laughs, cuddling her. "Are Alana and Margot just taking a moment?" he asks.

"Yeah," Beverly says. "There was a lot of kissing and happy crying, but I felt like I had gotten my share and ought to help the dogs keep you company."

"Thanks," Will says, and just holds her for a while.

Alana and Margot's moment goes on for a long time, and Will and Beverly are cooking dinner by the time they come out, hand-in-hand and both radiant, even with traces of tears on their faces. They come into the kitchen to greet Will and Beverly with kisses, and then help them get everything onto the table the way they always do. Watching the others in action, Will has to admit to himself that he's already part of family. It just crept up on him.

Even with all the security precautions they have to take, it's a cozy time. Jack gives Beverly a little time off and a lot of work to do at home, and all of them carpool to work with different people at different times, trying not to get into a recognizable pattern. Will and Beverly go armed and they drive Alana crazy by constantly checking in, but when they come home, they come home to Margot, sitting by the fire with the dogs, glowing in the golden light. Pregnancy agrees with her, and she does her best to become Alana's housewife. As a Verger scion she wasn't taught much in they way of plain cookery or even how to do laundry, but she's eager to learn.

Margot is four months along when two men try to force Beverly into a car and get pistol-whipped for their troubles. They haven't tried to press Margot to take legal action against her brother before, but in light of an actual attempted kidnapping, they take her to Jack. In his office, they learn that Margot has a safety deposit box of evidence against Mason Verger. Collected over the decades of her parents refusing to listen to her and the local police force being in the family pocket. There's a small tape recorder, a few photos of her own cuts and bruises, and several sadistic, mocking, and incriminating notes that perfectly match a sample of his handwriting.

By the time they're done talking to Jack, the Bureau has enough to raid Muskrat Farms, and Margot is pale and shaky. Alana has gone stone-faced, and holds her tightly. All three of them want to go along and have a word with Mason Verger, but of course they're too closely-involved, and end up sitting in Will's house with a few actually appointed agents for protection along with Price and Zeller, because they can't stay away. It's nice to have their gentle bickering for a backdrop as everyone does their best to pay attention to whatever movie Beverly has put on. Will has no idea what it even is, forgetting from scene to scene as he wonders what the field agents are finding.

Will jumps when his phone rings, and then picks it up, seeing Crawford's number. "Hello?" he says, as Beverly hits the power button on the TV.

"You can tell Margot that at least some of her troubles are over," he says. "Verger's dead.'

The details come in waves, about the specially bred man-eating pigs and the vast amounts of child pornography and all the other parts of Verger's house of horrors. There's a lot of crying, in the days after: Margot crying because now she has no living family and that's actually a _good_ thing, Alana crying over Margot's pain, and Beverly crying over Margot's horrible past and orphaned state. Will usually doesn't join in, but sometimes all the extra emotions come spilling out of his eyes. Margot remains as gay as ever, but all four of them cuddled up in Will's bed feels right.


	2. Chapter 2

At least now Margot can have her horses back. They've been neglected, but Mason hadn't gotten around to slaughtering any of them before taking his header into the pigpen, and Will is very glad to have the project of making the barn livable. It's soothing work, appealing to the same part of his brain that likes assembling motors so much. He's in the middle of ripping out rotten boards when he senses a human presence. He stops, and looks around to see Margot.

"Afternoon," she says, her comparatively bulky form wrapped in the floaty pink thing she inherited from one of Beverly's cousins. She hasn't gained much weight with her pregnancy, but by this point their unborn daughter is about the size of papaya, giving her a definite potbelly.

"How'd it go?" he asks. Her visit to her horses can't have been too bad or she'd still be in the house letting Alana comfort her.

"Not so bad." She sighs. "I can only really justify keeping four of them, I think, so we shouldn't need a new barn or even a major remodel."

"We could do that, you know," Will tells her, pulling off another board.

She shakes her head, coming closer. "No, it was nearing the hoarding point. The four that mean the most to me are what I think I can handle. I don't want to have to hire anyone." Will just nods, dropping the board onto the small pile of bad lumber. No one in the family is very trusting these days, and soon they'll have a baby to worry about. The fewer strangers around, the better. "Can I help you with any of that?" Margot asks, and Will carefully does not laugh. Verger scions are not traditionally taught to do anything with their hands but torment animals and count money, but he never wants to hurt Margot's feelings.

"I'm all right," he says. "Besides, I'm in work clothes, you're not."

"True," she says, smiling softly and resting one hand on her belly. Will smiles back, leaning on the stall divider and just watching her.

"Quiet?" he asks.

"Yeah," Margot says. "She likes to nap in the afternoon. And then wake me up playing soccer at three a.m."

Will chuckles, and wrenches another board free. "She probably gets it from me, sorry."

"Better than most of the available vices on my side of the family," Margot says, and Will sighs, scrubbing his hands as clean as he can get them on a bandana before going over to offer Margot a hug. She holds him tightly and for a long time, until the baby kicks so hard that Will can feel it, making them both jump and laugh.

"That has to be so strange..." Will murmurs, and Margot grins at him.

"Yeah," she says, "but it's good-strange." 

Will presses a kiss to the top of Margot's head and then lets her go so she can make her way to the house, promising to bring him a drink. Ever since her first trimester made her so sensitive to smells, she has been reveling in her regained ability to pour whiskey without throwing up. Will knows that she needs to greet the others and have her own drink (probably a smoothie) and isn't surprised that that takes a while. By the time Margot gets back to him, he has almost all the rotted wood cleared out. There's more than enough space for four horses, and Will measures it with his eyes again as he settles onto a box. He pulls off his gloves and turns to Margot to accept the drink.

"Thanks," he murmurs, as she settles down in the real chair, the big shawl that Mrs. Katz gave her for Christmas wrapped around her shoulders. It's getting pretty warm as spring comes on, but of course none of them want Margot to be chilled, and it's cool in the barn. She smiles at him, tucking the shawl a little tighter.

"You're welcome," she says, and looks around the barn. "I think they'll be happy here."

"Good." He takes a long pull of his drink, feeling the strange shyness that often comes over him when they're alone together, even now.

"It's a good thing Alana knows how to ride," Margot says, still pondering the empty space. "Poor things must be desperate by now."

"Beverly has had some lessons," Will says, and chuckles. "And you know about my criminal past." 

Along with stealing watermelons, in his misspent youth Will had poached a ride or two when there were horses available, and while his technique may not be perfect, he can take Margot's horses out and not hurt them. She gives him that sad, funny smile, fond and a little incredulous, and Will knows what she's thinking. This is the look Margot gets sometimes when they're alone together, an incredulous amusement at everything being okay, at Will being no threat, someone who is allowed, encouraged, even, to touch her, to hold her, to be near when she's helpless. Now he reaches out and takes her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. She has such little hands, delicate and sharp like the rest of her.

Margot laces her little fingers with Will's. "Come back inside with me," she says, and Will is happy to obey, at a good stopping point in the project.

The house is almost too warm, and all the dogs are sprawled around, gnawing on the organic salmon-based chews that keep Beverly popular with them. Beverly herself is sprawled on the couch, and she opens her arms to Margot, making grabby hands. Margot chuckles and arranges her rapidly growing bulk against Beverly, and Will sits on the floor and makes a quiet noise of pleasure in his throat as Beverly casually ruffles his hair, petting him like a dog. Margot's hand joins hers and Will sighs, relaxing back against the couch and sipping his whiskey.

"I think we should move to the bed," Beverly mumbles. "That way when Alana gets back we'll have room for her."

"True," Will says, and lurches to his feet, wandering over to flop onto the bed and then watching as Beverly helps Margot heave her new bulk up and off the couch. He can't help but feel a slight jag of male guilt for not being the one to do it, but Beverly is strong and Margot isn't that heavy yet and soon they're both in his arms. Will sighs contentedly as each settles in on one side of him, Beverly's lean frame and the curve of Margot's belly pressing against him. He chuckles as the baby kicks again, and Margot snorts.

"I swear, now that I said she's nocturnal, she's going to change."

"Contrary little thing," Will murmurs, one hand resting on that little flutter. It flutters some more than then quiets a bit, like a child settling for a moment of rest after running around the house like a maniac. Margot chuckles, and puts her hand over Will's, keeping it where it is all of them rest together and wait for Alana to get home.


	3. Chapter 3

The day the horses come back is a truly beautiful one. Not only is it clear and mild, with just enough breeze and sun, but Margot is glowing like the weather. Will hopes that this fussing is a sign of how she'll be when the baby comes, because while she can't help but be a little agitated, she's mostly calm and entirely happy. There's no choice but to have a hired driver with the horse trailer, since none of them really have enough practice yet, but Beverly is riding along, and she helps to unload Bucephalus, Pearl, Featherfall, and Shadow. All of them are alarmed to be somewhere new, but Will and the others stay still and quiet, and the dogs are in the house. 

Soon the trailer is beside the barn and they're alone again, watching as the horses investigate their new pen. Since they all know each other already, have at least met every human present, and have been stalled much longer than is good for them, Margot feels safe enough doing it this way. Once the horses have shaken off some of their prey-animal jitters, they're delighted with their new freedom. Watching them frisk and play like colts, every single hour of the labor Will put into making the paddock and refitting the barn is more than worth it. Next to him, Beverly seems to be thinking the same thing, grinning with her hands in her jeans pockets.

"I think they're gonna like it here," she says softly, and Will puts his arm around her.

"I hope so," he says, and smiles when she kisses his cheek. Margot is leaning on the fence, giggling as the animals periodically come up to sniff at her or nibble her jacket as if to make sure she's still there. They also pay a lot of attention to her belly, nosing at it as if they want to greet the occupant. Margot will probably never be huge, but she's much larger than she was, and smiles at their attentions. She talks softly to them the way Will talks to the dogs.

The horses settle in within the week, because home is where the Margot is. She's far too pregnant to ride, but she's out with them every day, talking to them, leading them, and supervising while Alana and Beverly get to know them better. Will spends a lot of this time walking the dogs. He doesn't want them to feel left out, and taking the whole pack by the paddock lets both groups get used to each other's existence. Buster is excitable and Will has to call him back a few times, but no one seems to actually wish to do the horses harm, and that's a very good start.

Today Will slows his run to a walk, and makes sure the dogs are calm before leading them over to where Margot is leaning on the edge of the paddock, scratching around Shadow's ears as she watches Beverly and Alana trot around the other end on Pearl and Featherfall. Buster tries to go under the fence to investigate Shadow more closely, but Will calls him back. Shadow rolls her eyes at them, the whites flashing against her black face. She and flicks her ears, swishing her tail and prancing nervously in place.

"Easy, Shadow," Margot murmurs. "Will won't let any of them hurt you." Shadow doesn't seem very convinced, and Will notices some old scars on her legs that make him feel sick.

"Did your brother..."

"Yes, Mason set his dogs on her. She's still nervous, but doing better."

"You hear that?" Will says to the pack. "Best behavior." They all wag their tails, and Winston cocks his head, studying Shadow. Bucephalus comes trotting over, head and tail high, and Margot chuckles.

"She's all right, honey," she tells the iron-grey stallion, and he relaxes after tenderly nosing at Shadow, as if to be sure that she's all right. "He kind of reminds me of you," Margot tells Will, stroking both horses.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Will mutters, and Margot laughs, letting the horses wander away in search of delicious grass. Just like building the paddock, mowing fodder for the herd so this new freedom won't make them sick is suddenly completely worth it.

"We've even set up like a band of mustangs," Margot adds, with a sly smile. "One stallion to watch out for mountain lions while the mares make most of the day-to-day decisions."

Will smiles sadly, still watching the paddock. "Beverly's the one who killed a predator."

"Yes, but she needed you to tip her off," Margot says, and she takes Will's hand.

"I nearly got her killed," he whispers, and Margot leans on him.

"Almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades," she says, and he laughs.

"That's what Beverly said." 

"Great minds thinking alike," Margot says, kissing Will's hand.

Across the paddock, Alana turns Featherfall, and the mare happily carries her back over to the other side, eager to check on Margot again. She also seems a bit leery of the dogs, but she doesn't have Shadow's scars or Shadow's degree of fear. She stops a few feet from the fence at Alana's gentle touch to the reins, and stretches her head out to gently snuffle at Margot's belly. There's one of those hiccuppy little movements and Featherfall flinches back, surprised. Will can't help a quiet laugh, and the mare looks over at him, head slightly cocked.

"Hey, Feather," he says softly, and she walks a few steps so Will can pet her a bit. 

Feather stands out in their small herd. While Bucephalus is that rich, almost metallic grey, Shadow is so black she really looks like a living shadow sometimes, and Pearl is a delicate sort of just-barely palomino, Featherfall's coat has a pure white base, spattered with a brilliant red-brown. "I promise my dogs are good dogs," he adds, and she whooshes warm horse-breath against his hand before lifting her head to listen for some inaudible thing. The dogs sit quietly, even Buster. and Will makes a mental note to give everyone a treat when they get back to the house. What he says aloud is that he's going to go start dinner, and promises to fix Margot a cheese and pineapple sandwich, something she started wanting about two weeks ago.

The dogs follow Will up to the house, and he gives everyone a treat and showers them with praise for being so good around the paddock before washing his hands and getting started on food for humans. By the time Will has started the fish soup, carefully sliced and blotted some pineapple, put just a little bit of butter on two pieces of bread, made three perfectly-sized slices of cheddar, and assembled Margot's sandwich, he can hear footsteps on the porch. Margot leads the way in, and makes a bee-line for her food without even acknowledging Will, instantly inhaling half of it.

"Poor thing," Beverly croons, wrapping her arms around Will, "you get no respect at all." Will just chuckles and turns his head to kiss her.

"Baby wants cheese and pineapple, baby gets cheese and pineapple," he says.

"I think it must be the baby that wants it," Margot says, swallowing her last bite, "this is insane."

"At least it's reasonably healthy," Alana says, taking the plate and rinsing it as Margot wipes her mouth and turns to Will with a smile. He opens his arms to her and she comes to him, Alana following to form a group hug with their unborn child at the center.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is much longer than the others, but it is mostly porn. My apologies to anyone for whom this _isn't_ a selling point.

Riding a horse turns out to have one thing in common with riding a bike: it all comes back very quickly. Will has had no formal instruction and hardly any instruction at all, but horses are a lot like dogs. Will lets them know they can trust him, lets them initiate contact, and keeps his voice as soothing as possible. Bucephalus comes trotting over first when Will enters the paddock, stepping tensely. He knows that Will is a human and ought to be obeyed, but Will can see in those dark eyes that Bucephalus is the smart type of animal, who has learned that some humans are shit. Margot hasn't let it ruin him, though, and when Will does nothing cruel or even sudden, he comes closer. Featherfall starts nosing around him, curious about Will, and he wheels and drives her back. Once he's sure that all of his mares are safe, he turns his attention to Will again, and comes closer.

"Hey, Ceph," Will says softly, using Margot's nickname for him. His ears prick forward, and Will smiles. "Yeah, I have dogs but I'm all right." 

All the dogs are back at the house, of course. It's bad enough that the horses are having to deal with so much change in spring, without rushing it even more. Will can almost taste the nervy edge of mating season on Bucephalus. He always has to guard his herd, but now is an especially delicate time, and Will doesn't even have to try to find the patience for it. After all, he can relate. He risks a glance over at Margot, who is standing outside the fence, where any runaways or errant kicks shouldn't hurt her or the baby.

Bucephalus lets out a huge whoosh of breath and comes close enough to investigate Will, sniffling at him and delicately nibbling his jacket collar until Will makes the soft corrective noise that Margot taught him. Bucephalus stands back a little, and continues his inspection. After a nice, quiet interval of breathing together, Will gives him a treat. Bucephalus gives the matter due consideration as he eats it, and then lets Will pat him. This is obviously the signal for Featherfall to come forward again, delightfully eager to be friends. Shadow hangs back looking nervous, and Pearl stays with her for moral support, nuzzling her gently. Featherfall would also very much like a treat, and so Will hands her one. He talks softly to both of them about nothing in particular, taking care to be very, very gentle when he touches Featherfall. He can see Bucephalus calming down, and his heart breaks to think of these poor animals stuck on the same estate as Mason Verger.

Will's goal isn't actually to ride in this first session, but Featherfall keeps nosing at him like a dog that wants a walk. She may be bareback, but it's not as if Will has ever had more tack than a blanket. He might still be able to just grab her mane and swing up the way he did when he was a teenager, but in the interests of his aged joints and not looking like a jackass, he boosts off the fence instead, a safe distance from Margot. As soon as he's on, Featherfall prances a bit and then starts to strut along the fence like she's expecting a medal for her achievement in human-taming. Will chuckles and coaxes her into a canter. Featherfall is happy to obey, and they make a few rounds of the paddock before Will brings her to a halt and slides to the ground again.

Margot grins at him. "Your form's pretty good for a guy no one ever taught."

"The horses did," Will says, slipping out and carefully locking the gate behind him. "First time out I got tossed so high that I had time to worry about breaking my everything when I landed."

"Your everything looks all right to me," Margot says, looking him up and down in a way that they've all become intimately familiar with by this point. 

Will shivers a little, and makes sure that the paddock is secure before following her up to the house. The third trimester has technically begun, which supposedly puts most expectant mothers off. For Margot, the fabled libido of the second trimester has just kept going, and Will is very glad that she has three people to keep up with her. Alana is at the office, but Beverly is working from home today. She's sitting on the floor with the dogs, using a clipboard to keep her paperwork in order, and looks up with a happy leer when Margot tows Will into the house by his shirt.

"Time for more riding?" she coos, and Will rolls his eyes even though he's already mostly hard, while Margot snickers.

"Maybe so!" she says, and leads the way up the stairs, since everyone agrees with Will that it's weird when the dogs watch. 

Will bites his lip and keep his breathing steady, even with Beverly's mischievous hands on his hips and his ass, half groping and half pushing him along. Much as Margot wants these days, she's as gay as ever, so once they've made it to the upstairs bedroom Will is actually surprised to be kissed first, even if he was the first one tapped. He's not complaining, though, and melts into Margot's mouth, sighing a little through his nose and trembling when she slips her hands under his shirt. Beverly helps her to push it up and then pull it off during a break in the kiss, and all Will does to help is raise his arms. His instinct when Margot is involved is always to stay passive, just like his instinct with Shadow is to not even look at her too hard.

"Sweet boy," Margot murmurs, like she's reading his thoughts, and bites one side of his neck while Beverly latches onto the other, arms wrapped around Will from behind. 

He leans back into her and moans quietly as she pinches his nipples. He clutches at her forearms a little just to have something safe to do with his hands, and feels a little weird at how weird it isn't to have the warm, heavy curve of Margot's belly pressed against him right now. She rests her hands on Will's hips, thumbs making loving circles of his hipbones, not touching the more sensitive skin just below them, which craves the contact she won't let it have. His breathing is loud in his own ears, and he can't help a sharp whine as Beverly pinches harder and rolls gently, Margot really sinking her teeth into him now, hard and so endlessly slow. Will quivers between them, toes curling against the rug as Margot finally slides her hands just a little lower. Then she digs her nails in and Will makes a sound he doesn't have a name for, harsh and hungry. Margot chuckles fondly, and sucks a mark onto his neck. Her mouth is low enough for a collared shirt to hide the mark, so Will can just relax into it with a low and heartfelt almost-purr.

"Maybe take this to bed?" Beverly murmurs, fingers still working. All Will can do is whimper, and Beverly lips at the rim of his ear while she waits for a more intelligent reply. Will does his best to stay upright, and is very proud of himself for managing. It's a huge relief to just let Beverly guide him down onto his back.

"I think I'm gonna keep track of those for you, sweetheart," Beverly murmurs, kissing Will softly as she takes his wrists and presses them to the mattress over his head. By now he's so hard he aches, and slick all over. His jeans are a torment, and he lets out a moan that's mostly relief as Margot eases them off. She kisses the tip of his cock and he whimpers as it twitches against her lips. Margot giggles, and looks up to Beverly.

"I think I'm going to arrange my bulk up against the headboard so he can lick me," she says, and Will lets out a helpless little whine, "I hope you don't mind changing how he's bound."

Beverly strokes Will's hair soothingly with her free hand. "I have a feeling we'll be all right," she says to Margot, and then, "Think you'd enjoy some bondage tape, champ?"

Will makes an affirmative noise, but of course they make him find his words. It only takes a moment, and then he's whispering, "please," and Beverly is scrambling to find the tape while Margot takes hold of his wrists, because Will needs to know that someone has him.

While Beverly tapes Will's wrists and he just tries to keep breathing, Margot carefully shifts her grip and moves to prop herself up on the pillows. Soon the tape is holding Will like an extension of Beverly's grip, so Beverly can help make sure that Margot is comfortably ensconced before she rolls Will onto his belly and guides his head between Margot's thighs. Margot slides her legs over his shoulders and takes his hands, resting them on top of her belly, which is basically the same as between her breasts these days. Will moans happily and lightly nuzzles Margot, getting her used to the touch before getting more deeply involved.

The touch of Beverly's slick fingertips on his hole makes Will whimper into Margot's flesh, and he pushes his hips back as best he can without pulling away from Margot. Beverly chuckles, pushing her first two fingers into him and then crooking them exactly right. Will flinches at the sound of a vibrator, since it would be too much for him right now, but he relaxes again when Beverly applies it to herself with a happy sigh.

A few years with Beverly and Alana have made Will more used to performing cunnilingus with a friendly finger or three up his ass, but it still takes a lot of concentration, and he has to take regular breaks to pant and moan, his head resting on Margot's thigh until he either gets back to work or she grabs his hair and _makes_ him get back to work. Sometimes he lingers more than he has to just to feel that sharp, needful pull.

Even with Mason and Hannibal both dead, all three of them can't help but stop, ears pricked up as someone unlocks the door even though they know it's Alana. She calls out a curious greeting, and when it isn't any of their code phrases for trouble, everyone can relax again. Margot yells for Alana to come join them and soon she's there, stripping off her work clothes with a warm chuckle before she kisses Beverly. Will gets back to work, making a happy noise as Alana pets him and settles in beside Margot to swallow up her little moans. Beverly switches her vibrator back on, and soon she's handing Alana one of her own.

Alana may have been the last one to the party, but she comes right after Beverly does, a testament to better living through technology. Her soft hand around his cock while Beverly's fingers fuck him deeper and faster quickly becomes very distracting, but Will insists on getting Margot to come first. He just barely manages it, starting to shake with his own climax as he laps Margot through the last waves of her own.

In the quiet afterward, they keep Will bound and cuddle him, covering him with soft kisses. Beverly goes to wash her hands and the toys, and comes back with damp washcloths, stretching out beside Will while Margot tenderly wipes his face and croons the kind of soft praise one uses to train a dog. Will shivers pleasantly, and dozes off with his head on her thigh.


	5. Chapter 5

By week thirty-seven, Margot has finally wound down as far as the sex thing goes. She's enormous, achy, overheated and accordingly cranky, and Will is very grateful that there are four of them. When Margot bursts into tears over snapping at Will, Beverly and Alana can pet her and soothe her and feed her small amounts of milk chocolate, since the good dark kinds have too much caffeine and make her feel sick now, anyway. When she gets restless under their fussing, she comes to see Will, sitting and watching him work on motors without a word. 

They also walk the dogs a lot, slowly and not for too long at a time. Margot's skinny little frame is having a hard time with her now enormous belly, and Will is always careful to spot her over the slightest roughness in the trail. She can't resent that, when she wakes up from nightmares of falling and killing the baby, among other horrors.

"Really," Beverly tells her on a night where all four people in their bed have all woken up from fearful dreams of varying degree, "you fit right in."

Margot sniffles and then starts to laugh, tucked tightly into Will's arms. That's how he knows the dream had Mason it, because whenever that's the case, she clings to Will like he's her only scrap of proof that not every man on earth is out to get her. Now he kisses the top of her head and then leans across her to kiss Beverly on the mouth

With Margot's and all of their issues, working out her birth plan has been like trying to broker a peace treaty. The check-ups are bad enough, since none of them can really trust doctors, to say nothing of Margot's own traumatic history, and Will was having panicky visions of just doing it at home after all by the time they finally found a birthing center that specializes in people with the kind of past traumas that might make birth even more terrifying than usual. 

Jack is at least understanding and gives Beverly plenty of leave, with the promise of flex-time to follow, but it's still emotionally exhausting for everyone and Margot almost has a panic attack once she realizes that all of them will be away from home at the same time and starts worrying about the animals. This, at least, is something Will can solve. Peter Bernardone is free once more, medications straightened out and placed with a social worker who is probably not a serial killer. Probably. Either way, Will trusts Peter with his dogs, and once Margot sees how gentle he is with Shadow and the other horses, she's willing to trust him, too.

"I-I'll t-take, take good care of them, ma'am," he says, standing out by the paddock in the afternoon sun, looking earnest and so much healthier than the last time Will saw him that it makes his throat tighten with emotion.

Margot gives him one of those fragile smiles that always makes Will want to hold her and never let go, and says, "I know you will." He can tell that she means it, and the three of them shake hands on the bargain.

Right now Peter is living in a tiny efficiency with a pet rat, so all he has to do is bring it over and lock the door behind them. He sleeps in one of the upstairs rooms, and spends a lot of time with the animals so that they hopefully won't panic when everyone else callously abandons them. He has a real way with animals, but a key part of that is acknowledging that it doesn't always work. Kit seems deeply worried, and Winston always stays by Margot.

"I wish you could come with us, buddy," is what Will tells Winston on the doorstep, three days before Margot's due date. She seems to be right on schedule, so they're going to stay at the Sunrise Center until the time comes.

The staff really are very kind, and they do everything they can to help Margot and her entourage feel at home. Their birthing suite is papered in a soothing, old-fashioned pattern of lavender flowers, and the monitoring equipment is stowed in a closet until needed. The worst thing about hospitals for Will is how bright they are, so he's glad to see the soft illumination. There's a big operating theater style lamp for the moment of truth, but it's in an unobtrusive spot for now. The bed is made with crisp sheets and a comforter, with a rubber under sheet for any number of things that might happen. They have a real door, and people knock before they open it, and this probably really was their best choice.

The cot that they take turns sleeping in hurts everyone's back, but Will doesn't complain and neither do the others. Whenever he's away, checking on the animals and Peter, picking up something Margot is craving, or taking one of his turns to sleep at home, he jumps any time his phone rings. Peter is a soothing presence, and in addition to his pet-sitting duties, he helps them to clean the house from top to bottom. Margot has started wanting to, and having to delegate the responsibility makes her a little tense. She's always pleased to get a photo of a rack of clean glasses literally sparkling in the sun, a freshly mopped floor, or Will scrubbing a wall.

 _porn for immediately expectant mothers_ she texts him after one such photo, and Will laughs, glad to release some of his own tension.

As the day gets closer and closer and the little contractions Margot has been having for weeks now start to get more serious, Will gets there earlier and earlier on the mornings after a night at home, and so even right beside Margot a phone call makes him jump. She giggles at him, and then stays quiet so he can answer.

"W-Will?" Peter asks.

"Yeah?"

"I kn-know they're, they're M-Margot's horses, but I didn't w-want to wake her, wake her up."

"She's already awake, but that's thoughtful of you. Should I give her the phone?"

"I g-guess, guess so," Peter says. 

Will hands it over, raising the head of the bed for Margot since sitting up is such a major effort these day. She smiles at him in thanks as she asks Peter what's wrong. She pauses to hear the answer, and then laughs in surprised delight. "No, no," she says, still a little giggly. "I don't blame you one bit. We'll just have to see what happens, but thanks for letting me know." She bids him a fond farewell and passes the phone back to Will, who does the same and hangs up.

"So what's up?"

Margot grins. "You know how we had Bucephalus stalled separately but where he could see the mares to keep him calm?"

"...He jumped it, didn't he."

"Flew like a bird, Peter says, and covered Featherfall and Shadow before he could do anything about it. We might be looking at two more babies next year."

"Only Featherfall and Shadow?"

"Pearl is spayed, her estrus was so uncomfortable for her that we went to the trouble."

"Well, I guess that's for the best. Never thought I'd be living on a horse farm at my age," Will says, and Margot reaches for him. He pulls his stool closer and leans into her embrace. Beverly is still asleep on the cot and Alana can't be by until later, straightening things out at her office. Right now it's just Will and Margot, and Beverly's soft breathing. They talk about what the foals might end up being like, a bubble of quiet and content hope in their turbulent lives.


	6. Chapter 6

It's just typical that it's Will's shift when the time comes. Margot doesn't have Alana to say just the right thing, she doesn't have Beverly to hold her hand and give her that grin that means that everything will be fine. Instead, she's stuck here with Will when the pains start. Yesterday was her actual due date, it's not as if they're not expecting it, and Margot is hardly even wincing yet, but Will still feels a ludicrous flood of absolute terror. By the look on Margot's face, she's feeling the same. His scrabbles for his phone to call the others, but Margot grabs his hand, and of course he doesn't make her let go.

One of many good things about Sunrise is that the staff are very understanding. They know that Margot needs a very consistent cast of characters. The same set of nurses have been checking on her for her whole stay, divided into morning, afternoon, evening, and overnight. Since it's after midnight, it's Josie who comes when Margot presses the call button.

"Is it time, darlin'?" she says, her sweet voice heavily tinted with Georgia. 

Margot nods, and Josie lets her know that she'll need to check how dilated she is. Josie is the kind of friendly that Will has hard time dealing with, but Margot has said that her chatter can make this kind of thing pass a lot more quickly. Will takes the father's usual role in these situations and stays out of the way, holding Margot's hand.

"You're starting to dilate," she says, "but if you want to let the gals get a little more beauty sleep, you probably can."

"Not like they need it," Margot says and then grits her teeth. "This is really only about as bad as my period, but I'm nervous as hell."

"Everyone is on their first time, sugar," Josie says, and Margot makes a quiet noise of amusement.

"I feel like pacing."

"Then do it, it's not gonna hurt anything," Josie says.

It's a massive relief to be able to pace with Margot. At first Will is sure she'll get irritable and banish him back to the bed, but she keeps her hold on him and he is profoundly grateful for it. Movement feels like purpose, and soon they're walking around the Center's little garden, Margot increasingly restless as this first stage goes on longer and longer. Josie comes out to them rather than the reverse to check on Margot, and always has something sunny to say about how well she's doing. Will has a feeling that he's not the only one relieved when she goes away each time. 

Margot is just saying they ought to go back in when her water breaks. Will only knows because she stops and grimaces, bracing her feet wide apart. "Okay," she says quietly, "we should probably call them."

Will shepherds her back inside and then calls Alana while the nurse checks Margot. Will is glad that it's a quarter past eight, so they're dealing with Marion, the morning nurse. One of the ways Will and Margot are alike is that neither of them can handle too much sympathy at a time, and as things get more intense, Josie might have become unbearable.

"You're already at five," Marion tells Margot, and she lets out a breathless little laugh.

"Izuah?" Alana's voice asks in Will's ear.

"Hey," he says softly, in deference to her utter exhaustion. "If you're still that tired get Beverly to drive, but we need you here."

Alana is instantly fully awake, and Will can hear the little sounds of her frantically pulling her clothes on as she demands a full situation report. Will passes the phone to Margot, who tells Alana everything, and then takes it back as Margot washes her hands of its horrible phone germs.

Even with contractions coming harder, Margot still feels like pacing, and Will walks up and down the hall with her. Just when it's really starting to hurt and her eyes are welling up with tears as Will half-carries her back to her room, Alana and Beverly come up the hall. Even now, Will isn't sure who's more grateful to see them. They each take an arm and lead Margot the rest of the way back. Beverly helps get her set up and settles beside her to help her with her breathing as Alana grabs Will's hand so tightly it hurts. He chuckles, rubbing her hand with his free one, gently getting her to ease up.

"Relax," he murmurs, teasing, "work on your breathing."

"I keep forgetting my big sister privilege," Beverly says, looking deeply amused. "Mom got through six of these, and I helped with three of them."

All of them have learned the breathing techniques, but Beverly is the best coach. Alana is completely fried, but she rubs Margot's back and her belly, and Will fetches water, coffee, and ice chips for everyone. He also helps Marion to help Margot to shift her massive bulk around, because even if she can't walk, she's still restless. Dr. Lavant shows up at about ten and assures all of them that Margot is doing fine and that Marion and Beverly's calm is perfectly reasonable. The doctor is an elderly woman who fits the medieval profile for a good midwife: intelligent, clean, and with several successful pregnancies of her own.

"You're dilating a lot quicker than I did with my first," she tells Margot, who laughs and then grimaces as another contraction rolls over her.

"I'd say ten centimeters shouldn't be such a big deal," Margot gasps when she can speak again, "but it's always the little things."

Over the next hour and a half, things slowly but surely get more intense. Will never thought 'birth coach' could go on his grand unified resume, but when they're deep into the fabled transition phase and nothing is working anymore, he finds himself resting his forehead against Margot's and breathing with her, guiding her into his stream. He has never tried to share it with another person like this, visions of Abigail notwithstanding, but somehow it works. The current pushes at their legs as Margot takes the break her body is no longer giving her.

Mercifully, there are no arguments about pushing. They have the ten centimeters they need when Margot gets the urge, falling back into her body with a vengeance. She rolls right over to be on all fours when position changes have been so fraught for the last hour, and it's very fast after that. Soon Margot can lie back with a beatific smile on her face and their daughter resting on her chest, and everyone else does their best not to collapse.

"We call this the 'it was all worth it' phase," Dr. Lavant says, and Will lets out a cracked, slightly hysterical laugh.

Sunrise never immediately clamps a cord unless they have to, and so while they wait for it to stop pulsing, Marion cleans up and Alana dims the lights while Beverly rubs her hands where Margot has gripped them so tightly. For her part, the baby just rests where she is, her first cry the only one so far. She's probably the calmest person in the room who isn't a professional, and Will has to smile.

"I think she looks like a Morgan," Margot says softly, and Will sits down beside her again, gazing down at this impossibly tiny person. With her slightly cone-shaped head and her pouchy little red face, Will thinks she looks like hell, but he doesn't say so. It's not as if that matters, anyway.

"It's a good name," is what he says. 

It's strange, but he's been so nervous through Margot's pregnancy and so protective of her that it's hardly any worse with their tiny, fragile baby actually in front of them. Morgan makes a weird little babynoise and Will loves her so much that it's a physical pain in his chest. On the other side of the bed, Beverly coos at Morgan, who wriggles a little, seeming pleased to hear a familiar voice. Alana slips into Beverly's lap, her face wet with tears. 

They’re so busy adoring the baby that delivering the placenta is barely a hiccup, and after Morgan has been wiped down and weighed, Marion and Dr. Lavant tiptoe out to leave their patients alone. They'll be back in about an hour to give Morgan her hep B vaccination and heel stick, but for now everyone just breathes together in the quiet room, full of the milk and blood smell of new life.


	7. Chapter 7

It's weird to go home alone in the evening, but Beverly is staying with Margot, and there isn't really room for him and Alana, no matter how much they feel like staying. The dogs come racing up to Will when he opens the car door, sniffing him frantically. He chuckles, petting them and letting them know that yes, there's a baby to guard now, and that she'll be here tomorrow. He looks up to see Peter standing on the porch, and smiles. Peter beams back at him, and asks all about the baby as Will comes up the steps. Will tells him what he can, that her name is Morgan and that she weighs six and a half pounds, measures eighteen inches long, has huge eyes of the usual newborn blue and little wisps of dark hair, and is unimaginably precious. 

Peter is as invested as a new parent could wish, and helps Will put dinner together while they wait for Alana to tear herself from Margot's side and come home. It takes her so long that they're about to start without her, but she arrives just in time for corn pudding and black bean soup. She plows right into it, and Will shakes his head.

"You didn't eat anything after that wrap I brought you right after Morgan was born, did you?"

She shakes her head, blushing. She swallows before she speaks, because Alana has good table manners even in extreme situations, which is probably part of what Hannibal had liked about her. Will shudders and lets the though pass him by. Under the table, Alana presses her foot sympathetically against his, because she almost always knows when he's remembering Hannibal. Peter seems to feel it, too, and is very glad to listen as Alana fills the quiet with a report on every single thing about Morgan.

Since Margot's only real health issue through this whole thing has been difficulty gaining enough weight, she and Morgan can come home in the morning. After making sure that everything is set up to Margot's specifications, Will does his best to stop fussing and get some sleep, wrapped around Alana in what has been designated the family bed for the next however long. Unfortunately, the crib he built onto the bed during Margot's last month is directly in his line of sight. It's pretty much just a box, the near wall rising a few inches above the mattress so that any errantly-flung limb will hurt itself and not Morgan. The mattress is perfectly fitted, and Will has sanded and sanded and sanded those wooden walls, as patient as the sea rolling a stone to the smoothness of glass. He gets up at three a.m. and checks it for splinters anyway.

Beverly calls them at seven, saying that Margot wanted to let them sleep, but that she's also desperate to come home and Beverly isn't going to let her be noble and self-sacrificing anymore. Will commends her on a job well done, and goes outside to give the tiny car seat another obsessive check. The fabric components are powder blue, with yellow ducklings. It's an arbitrary thing to focus on, but there is is.

It's a huge relief to see Margot again, because even with the car seat, Will is starting to feel like he dreamed the whole thing. She's blessedly real, tired and surly and completely obsessive about getting Morgan into the car seat. Will is happy to wait as long as it takes for their little sleepy pink creature to be properly strapped in. Margot insists on riding in the back to keep an eye on things, and Will is fine with that.

Driving home with a newborn turns out to be the most stressful thing Will has done since he sent Beverly after Hannibal. He's not sure he breathes between Sunrise and getting Margot and Morgan settled into the fresh sheets on the family bed. Peter is already gone, whisked away by Alana during her own unbearable, nail-biting wait. She still manages to change into a fresh nightgown and wash her hands before crawling in with Margot and clinging to her.

"I don't know how long we need to be that clean," Margot says, snuggling into Alana's arms, "but thank you."

They spend most of the first week just lying around, feeding Margot anything she wants and working out how best to arrange Morgan's own meals. Will isn't sure how two people alone are supposed to do this. The kid has to eat every two hours, for starters, to say nothing of how complicated the whole suck-swallow-breathe thing can get. With three other adults around, Margot can just sleep when Morgan does, and once she gets the pump figured out she can get longer stretches while the rest of them use a finger rig to feed Morgan because she hates bottles. Will is pretty sure it's a mix of the flow being too fast and the lack of skin-to-mouth contact. When Alana tries to use a glove for hygiene, Morgan howls.

Woken up by the howling and examining the problem with the others, Will mumbles, "I hope to god you won't make trouble about using a rubber when you're older," and Alana and Margot glare at him while Beverly cackles so loudly that it scares Morgan, who shrieks her irritation at latex, being hungry, and now being startled on top of everything else.

"I'm sorry, tiny bundle," Beverly tells their tiny bundle, and takes Morgan from Alana's arms to soothe her while Alana goes and sterilizes the rig. Since they've all been so rudely awakened anyway, Morgan gets to enjoy this particular feeding straight from the source, and settles down immediately, mollified now that the grownups are being sensible again.

"You make me sore but I love you so," Margot croons.

"Said the actress to the bishop," Beverly giggles, and earns herself and Will exile to the upstairs when he joins in. They both press a kiss to Morgan's tiny, squishy head, and leave her to be eased down to sleep by responsible adults.

At least it's summer now, and Will has hardly any classes. Technically they could all live as Margot's harem, but the thought of being kept makes him nervous, and Beverly and Alana both have too much genuine work ethic to go for it. Will doesn't fall asleep with Morgan on his chest because he's tired, he does it because it's such a still, quiet, hot afternoon, and it's just the two of them, all of the girls out and the whole house filled with sunlight and soft canine breathing.

Will dreams, and it is deep and vivid, and the most horrible nightmare he has ever had, because it's not horrible. He's in the same house his waking body inhabits, and it's a sunny afternoon in the dream, too. But Hannibal is sitting beside him on the bed. He looks like himself, just the way he did before Beverly killed him. No blood, no rot, no bullet wounds, just calm, smiling, obnoxiously well-groomed Hannibal, gazing down at Morgan's chubby little sleeping self.

"What a pretty child," he says softly, one long finger trailing over Morgan's head where dark curls are coming in. "She looks like you."

"I still say she's too little to look like anybody," Will says, full of the lazy affection that will horrify him most when he wakes up.

"Not at all," Hannibal says. "A child's paternity can often be told by the pinnae, did you know that? Most of us are born with our father's ears, and she has yours. A little large, perhaps, but with the charm and the pleasing symmetry of the kit fox."

"You're ridiculous," Will tells him, and Hannibal just chuckles, rubbing a gentle circle on Morgan's back as she snuffles and roots, the gesture so like a piglet that the word 'sounder' comes through the dream and Will jolts awake, his arms locking around Morgan in the same instant, his body terrified to drop her even without cautionary input from his conscious mind. Morgan yells, but he hasn't dropped her. He checks her obsessively for physical injury, and then for invisible ones, as if somehow Hannibal may have really touched her. She just looks up at him with big blue eyes and a disgruntled expression. Will sniffles before he realizes that he's crying. He mops at his face with one hand, and then lets Morgan force him to be in the present as he feeds her and changes her diaper. She's a very empathetic baby and knows that he's still upset, which makes her fussy.

"It's all right," he murmurs, "Daddy won't let his ghosts hurt you."

He's still walking the floor to soothe Morgan when Beverly comes back. She's early, and drops everything by the door to hug him from behind, her arms helping his to cradle Morgan. "You look like you feel unstable," she mumbles into his shoulder, and he laughs.

"Better by the minute," he tells her, and it's the truth.


End file.
